A/N: So I was sitting in my Honors Chemistry class yesterday, and because my brain doesn't do math or science in any way shape or form, I was thinking about Les Miserables. I have loved Les Miz for a long while now, but I had yet to stumble on a decent plot bunny to write a fic. I had one over the summer for an Eponine/Enjolras fic (I'm a sucker for them, what can I say?) but I lost the rough draft somewhere in my room. Oh well. So anyways, back to yesterday...
I was thinking how unfair it was that Thenardier and his gang, who are professional criminals, were never caught, or could easily escape, whilst Jean Valjean, who only broke a window and stole a loaf of bread was given five years in a high security prison. Before he tried to escape, that is.
But then I thought; what if Jean Valjean had never taken the bread? Sure, he'd have it easier in life, but what about the people he met? This is the outcome of that.
The first part is Jean Valjean; the next parts will be the other characters, starting with (most likely) Fantine.
I don't own Les Miz.
Jean Valjean
Hunger.
That is what drove him to this spot.
Jean looked thru the window at the warm, fresh loaves of bread. They, and the room they were in seemed to emanate warmth, a stark contrast to the bitter wind that howled outside, with hardened snow that crunched under foot. The baker was the richest man in town, everyone knew that. Rich enough that he could easily replace a broken window, never mind a loaf of bread. So it wouldn't be that bad to steal, would it? The loaves would be stale in the morning, probably then thrown out.
Therefore Jean would be doing the baker a favor, wouldn't he, by taking just one loaf off his hands so the baker need not waste it.
Jean's empty stomach growled, as if protesting his brains hesitance.
He was reminded that this wasn't just for him too.
His sisters husband had died, leaving Jean the master of the house. And his sister had many children, most young enough not to withstand being as hungry as they were for much longer.
Jean reached down and picked up a stone the size of his fist. It would be so easy. Just take his hand with the rock, smash it against the window, reach in, take the bread, and run.
The rock felt heavy in his hand, like an iron weight in his palm.
Jean took a deep breath. He had to do it, for his family. It wasn't something that was possible to mull over. No question about it. He must do this.
Or they'd all starve soon.
Jean took another deep breath.
His fist tightened around the stone.
He pulled his arm back, prepared to swing.
He closed his eyes.
Quick as lightning, his hand moved forward, towards the glass window pane, closer and closer until-
His closed fist, rock and all, stayed hovered just above the window.
He couldn't do it. He just couldn't.
The muscles in his hand, once ridged with certainty, now loosened.
The rock fell to the ground, landing with a thud, the clattering as it skittered at his feet, amongst the ice-covered paving stones.
He couldn't do it.
Dejected at his own weakness, but now filled with desire to get food in the honest way, he turned his back on the store with the warm, fresh loaves of bread and walked back towards home, not even seeing the police he passed just around the corner.
Police who would've caught him if he had taken the bread.
But he hadn't, and life would go on for Jean Valjean just as it always had.
Please review, its my first Les Miz fic after all, think of a review as a welcoming present I'll try and update soon, but I cat give any promises, considering I have two other fics.